


Friction

by Lisafer



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Pre-smut, prompt, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1471414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisafer/pseuds/Lisafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hours into their first day Gimli leaned against Legolas, and they both seemed to enjoy the way the horse's rhythm moved  them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [errandofmercy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/errandofmercy/gifts).



> this is response to a prompt given to me by the wondrous errandofmercy. Thank you, bb!!

They'd had only one day together upon Arod before the horses, with a lightness in their hearts that Legolas did not at first understand, had run off into the night. His first lament was for Arod, that he would not get to feel that marvelous creature and connect with him again. His second, more lingering regret was that he would no longer feel Gimli at his back, his hips rocking against him with each equine step.

Gimli had complained, at first – oh, how a Dwarf could complain! “I would rather sail down the river ten times than sit upon this beast!” he said within the first few minutes. “This mad horse knows no logical rhythm,” he'd protesed not long after. And then,“I am sure he is trying to throw me. Hammer and tongs! Ask the creature if he is trying to make me fall.” But only hours into their first day he had simply leaned against Legolas, his body radiating that steady Dwarven warmth that seemed to never wane. His presence was a comfort to the Elf, and they both seemed to enjoy the way the horse's rhythm moved them together.

Or, at least, Legolas could certainly tell that Gimli enjoyed certain aspects of it. Unless that was the handle of an axe that rested so stiffly behind him.

Later, when the horses returned with Shadowfax and all would be traveling to Edoras together, Legolas's heart lightened enormously. Mithrandir's presence gave them hope and purpose, and they would ride once more. He looked forward to the touch of Gimli's strong hands around his waist, perhaps his fingers looped through his belt, holding on for dear life. Or perhaps merely holding onto what was dear. 

The ride to Edoras, however, offered no such comforts, no momentary escapes from duty. Gimli rode with Mithrandir, sitting in front of the wizard on Shadowfax. As Legolas watched them, he wondered what it would feel like to carry the Dwarf in front of him rather than behind. Would he be able to hold onto Gimli as easily as Mithrandir did? Would Gimli prefer not to have Legolas's hair blowing back into his face and mouth? Would he keep his hands politely in front of him, as he did with Mithrandir, or would he reach back to touch the Elf's thighs?

They would not stay too long in Edoras, surely. And then perhaps he would suggest they ride like that. Legolas liked the idea, spending some time imagining Gimli's reaction to his idea.

But when they traveled toward Helm's Deep together, Gimli rode behind Éomer, chatting with Aragorn and Legolas at either side. Legolas could not bring himself speak as freely as they; his eyes too often strayed to the sliver of light that shone between Gimli's and Éomer's torsos. In the moments when the Dwarf and man were too close for that sunlight to appear, he became too cross to carry any conversation at all. He gazed instead at their rocking hips, wondering if Éomer liked the sensation, or if Gimli's body reacted in the same way to the man's firm backside. Leoglas was glad to see that the Dwarf's hands stayed comfortably resting on his own thighs, but then wondered whether it was because Gimli did not desire to touch the man so freely, or if it was just that Éomer was such an accomplished rider that even a skittish Dwarf would not feel the need to hold on.

“On our next journey, you ride with me,” Legolas murmured to the Dwarf when they finally dismounted and prepared for battle. When Gimli raised a knowing eyebrow, Legolas continued,“I prefer talking over my shoulder than shouting across several feet.”

Gimli simply nodded, a strange fire in his eyes. “Aye,” he said at last. “I find that, as good a horseman as Éomer is, I prefer riding with you.”

And when they were back upon their steed, after the Hornburg was defended and the victors made their way to Isengard, Legolas suggested that Gimli ride in front of him. He wrapped one arm around the Dwarf's thick waist, pleased that he was too tall for Gimli's hair to tickle his face. Their pace was slower and more relaxed as they made their way to Isengard, the urgency of search and battle no longer upon them. And as his groin ground slowly against Gimli, Legolas could not help but get caught in a web of delicious daydreams. There were plenty enough other ways their hips might rock so tantalizingly together.

“I believe I like riding this way,” he said, leaning down to rest his chin on the top of Gimli's head.

“I thought you might,” Gimli replied huskily. “All the time I was with Gandalf I figured you'd be going mad, aggravated it wasn't you behind me instead. Can't say my wishes were different.”

“And now? Have you any wishes now?”

“Only that your knife were not pressing so hard against me.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice. 

Legolas leaned closer, his mouth nearly touching Gimli's ear. “I carry my knife on my back, friend.”

Gimli settled himself closer, his backside pressing more fully against the hardness in Legolas's breeches. The Elf squirmed, imagining the self-satisfied smirk on the Dwarf's face, and could hear it in his voice when he spoke again. “I suppose I was wishing for that, too.”


End file.
